I Love You a Latte
by bellabluesmoke
Summary: In which the rigidly straightforward Erik falls unbelievably for the young barista Charles after a chance meeting. Erik's always been a black coffee kind of man, but Charles introduces him to the benefits of adding a little sugar to one's bitter beans. It is quite possible that Erik has no clue how to go about wooing a twenty-something year-old angel. cafe!AU Erik/Charles


Erik is a man of structure. His days are planned right down to the half-hour, and that's the way he likes it. His college courses are all arranged in a neat, effective way that will keep him on the path to success. Erik is going to pass his classes, graduate with top honors, and become successful. Even with his strict schedule, nothing will stand in Erik's way- not a changed class date, a moved deadline, a pop quiz. Nothing.

It seems like some sort of karmic joke that his undoing will be a simple cup of coffee.

* * *

Blue. Clearer than the sky, too dark to reflect some ocean on the shores of a white beach. Erik isn't sure he's ever seen eyes as blue as this.

The blue eyes belong to a young man, probably twenty-one if he's a day. He has fair skin the likes of which Erik's never seen; it's almost as if the sun doesn't wish to defile it. Dark, almost black-brown locks fall messily into the young man's face, and his lips are the most intriguingly rosy-pink color.

"May I take your order?"

Such mundane words to have fallen from the lips of an angel.

Belatedly, Erik realizes that he's probably gazing at the young barista with too much intensity to pass off as misguided. In fact, Erik can almost believe that this man knows just by looking that Erik is suddenly, quite unintentionally, completely in love.

"Coffee. Black," Erik says, and it's to his great yet unhelpful relief that the barista smiles warmly and nods, because apparently Erik's even tone is enough to cover up his previously unabashed stare. Erik watches the barista turn to start up the coffee, and he thinks that maybe he should've ordered something a little more intricate, because _dear lord_ this man moves like something beyond graceful. The best ballet dancers in the world would be shamed by his movements. Erik tries and fails spectacularly not to stare at the pale wrist exposed as the man pours water into the coffee pot, arm bracing against the carafe like he's performing silver service. The way Erik's heart begins to beat at the sight of the wrist is ridiculous, and he is mentally indignant that such a simple expanse of flesh is sending him into giddiness like a young, Victorian lady. In fact, everything about this chance coffee trip is making Erik indignant.

Why did he have to be out of coffee? Why did he have to have an empty space in his schedule? Why? Erik can't stop bemoaning his situation until the barista returns, flushed pink cheeks and shy smile, standing just to Erik's left as he places the coffee on the table.

"Here you are, sir."

Erik is dead, and he just doesn't know it yet. He is completely convinced that this man was put on earth simply to torture him, and he has no clue what to do, watching the barista go about setting pastries in the glass case by the register. Sure, Erik's had girlfriends- the occasional boyfriend- but no one's lasted more than a week. Erik doesn't _do_ relationships. Or, more accurately, relationships don't do _him_. Erik is too structured, too set. He can't be with a rigid person because he can't be with someone who is set on a goal that doesn't cross his path. He can't be with an undisciplined person because he can't stand someone without a goal who only exists for his livelihood. The only people who could possibly put up with him are people interested in what he is, and there aren't many. There are fewer he can stand.

"Would you care for a tart?"

Erik splutters into his tea, but only because his train of thought made the statement sound odd. The barista's looking concerned, and Erik calmly gathers his racing heart. He's about to say no- he usually doesn't eat sweets, especially when they're an extravagance. He's about to say no, but the man has such _blue_ eyes, and those lips are pulled into a hopeful smile, and suddenly he's saying-

"Yes. Thank you," and at that moment, Erik knows he's done for.

* * *

**Hi everyone! So, this is my first fic and I hope it's good :') I'm not sure if I want to keep this ongoing, so it's set as 'completed' right now. Depending on if anyone likes it, maybe I'll end up continuing. Anyhow, I am IN LOVE with cafe!AU _anything_, so this is definitely not the last you'll read from me! Sometimes I wish _my_ life were a cafe!AU. Maybe then I'd meet someone I like. Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review!  
**


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